The Experience Of Life Itself

Every summer, there's a point we hit. A point where we're totally done, fed up, over it. That point, I think came last week. 

Not to detail every frustrating thing about summer, but to simply say, I feel wrung out. It's been too long, too hot, too wild and unpredictable. And yet. I keep saying it too: oddly hopeful. Exciting things are happening, falling into place, or rather on our laps. Right now, everything is contradictions. Trying to shoot my little movie, with little experienced help, and frankly, way too little time, or resources, has been exhilarating and disappointing in turns. 

On Saturday we tried to catch up on sleep by the water, when suddenly it seemed like the other side of the mountain was on fire; the smell of smoke, the sun obscured. The wind was blowing ominous clouds of smoke from the other side of the mountains.

It's no wonder. Half of this state is on fire. We walked to the beach with friends after dinner and watched a beautiful, pink sunset. The moon rose, lopsided and blood-orange red. My sister fell asleep on the backseat. Two albino deer crossed the road. On the car stereo Bob Marley And The Wailers sang:

High seas or low seas/ I'm gonna be your friend

In high tide or low tide/ I'll be by your side

/When we're wrong please correct us

I know I've said it before, but we're so wrong, and I think we better pray, pray, pray, pray. It's gonna be high seas and red skies. 

Dress as shirt-FennecDesignCompany on etsy-2012/ skirt-thrifted-2013/ hat-gift from Emmy this summer (part of my head now;)

Dress as shirt-FennecDesignCompany on etsy-2012/ skirt-thrifted-2013/ hat-gift from Emmy this summer (part of my head now;)

Yesterday, we pulled ourselves out of bed and went to help our friends and neighbors reroof their house. I felt triumphant, standing in the hot sun on sticky tarpaper I'd help staple on myself. I'm scared of heights. Coming down, I took off my shoes, opened a beer…and stepped on a nail. 

This pattern, it keeps repeating itself. 

There's not much to do, but to keep the good, and jettison the rest. Make hibiscus kombucha, a flower essences for us HSPs, and everyone else who's senses this madness is assaulting. Make birthday presents, plans, unpack footage and hope it jibes somehow. Plot, plan, reach out. PRAY. 

How are your summer dog days going? Hang in there, 'k?